Marco Vs Kizaru Novels & Stories

Dante moved. Fast. Violent. His fist aimed at Marcus's face. Marcus didn't block. He took the punch full force, and blood exploded from his nose. He laughed. "Feel better?" Marcus asked, spitting blood. "Does violence make you feel like you've fixed something? Does hitting me change the fact that your organization is about to collapse?" "Marco," Dante said quietly. "How many people in your team reported directly to the Carozzas?" Marco's face went very still.

She could see that Marco was on the brink of something, his tears already starting to form. With a gentle voice, she asked, "Why are you crying?" Marco was quick to wipe away the tears from his face as he glared at her. "I'm not crying! I'm too old for that!" Cris chuckled lightly, amused by his stubbornness. "How old are you then?" "I'm five years older than you!" he retorted, a playful grin spreading across his face. Cris arched an eyebrow. "So, you're thirteen years old?" Marco laughed quietly, as if he was reminiscing about their childhood banter. "No, I'm already ten years old. My mom told me that boys usually grow taller five years after girls, so don't worry, I'll be taller than you s

Marco stood firmly in place, his robes fluttering without any wind, exuding the demeanor of a master. Andrius could not help but narrow his eyes. That pressure... It was already at the level of the late Nascent Soul stage! Another step forward and he would be on par with Gerald. Marco’s voice was loud and cold. “Johan, I’ve cultivated for many years and naturally won’t be unfair to you. I’ll only use 40% of my power. As long as you can withstand three moves, you’ll pass.” Andrius simply said, “Come at me.”

Maria said waving at Valeria in a queen-like manner. "Que tenga un buen día señora. Goodbye." Valeria said and left the room. Meanwhile, Maria sighed and sipped a little bit of wine from her tumbler. Whenever she got depressed or angry, red wine was her drug to overcome those emotions. She hoped that Philip would not get in her way. He had the special ability to destroy her plans at the most unexpected time.

But if my suspicion that he is Lucas is correct, Marcus probably already knows. I heard the clanking of the two swords. I can even see sparks from the blade every time they will meet in high tension and force. Reed's sparring partner is also good, he is an expert, and his movements are obvious. He looks like an ancient Japanese Warrior. Like Rurouni Kenshin. They ended the spar and Marcus clapped. "That's good Captain," Marcus said and listed something on the board. That's probably information. "Next is Ryujin." It's a call.

"But those humans are better than you, Marco. No one can compare to you in terms of how low and filthy you truly are. You think you're better than anyone?" "Rouges are better than you." Marco's wolf lunged for me in wild rage and met the fury of my claws. Blood dripped off the wolf's face as it retreated and Marco growled at me in the space of my mind. I smirked. "You're going to die Marco, and no one is going to miss you."

It’s infuriating, how my body reacts to the sound of him. “Tell me about this supplier.” “It’s the Yakuza,” Marco sounds confident. The yakuza? Isn’t that like the Japan version of Italian mafias. A harsh, barking laugh comes from Renzo. “You want us to believe you have links to the Yakuza? You?” “What about that?” Marco’s words thrum with frustration. “You couldn’t get the info on the arsons, you spineless mofo.” Oh, that’s Renzo. Things are really getting pretty heated. This is the time I should probably take my leave.

He was stunned for a moment, but his reaction was too late because I already had him by his neck. But what I didn’t expect was that a group of rogues would come and took me away from him. Marco shifted back to his human form and laughed, “You think you can win this war? No! You don’t know me at all,” he said, and he was fast because he was in front of me in seconds with his right hand on my heart ready to rip it. He was about to but he was thrown away by a big blow from Marcus.

But it was too late for a clean retreat, Marco moved forward, closing distance between and forcing them further off balance, his movements precise but aggressive enough to keep them from regrouping. Lorenzo followed through the opening, not chasing just breaking through, that was the difference. He drew his knife from his ankle holster, the karambit, the one weapon he used whenever, he's been crossed so deeply. He moved with a speed even Marco had never seen before, through the barrage of men, slitting their throats and popping holes in their hearts. Within seconds, the formation collapsed entirely, all the men were down, none left that place with their heads on their necks. And just like th

“Marvel or DC?” I look to my left. A kid around my age, chubby, glasses, short hair. “What?” I responded. He points at my Spider-man comic. “I think DC has better characters and tells better stories.” He says. I stay quiet and just stare at him. “You don’t talk much do you?” I take a moment to say something. “I’m more of a Marvel fan. Mostly because of Spider-man. He’s cool.” I say. “He is cool. Okay next question. Who would win in a race, Flash or Quicksilver?”